18th September 1973

18th September 1973

In my Grandmother’s
Kitchen,
i raced to the Drawer
to pull out Linen
to wipe the cola
i had just spritzed
Out of my mouth
Onto the table. On
The linen towel,
Was printed a calendar.
It said 1973. It was 1979.
i was six. My mother
Was cooking on the stove
And the steam from the boiling water
Was billowing out
And over her short red
Haired head.  i told her to be Careful,
then i studied
The towel’s calendar
Of twelve even squares
And focused on September eighteenth.
A golden pumpkin color border
Surrounded by the fancies
Of a fall flowering décor
Now stained with Cola
From a ‘quiet child with
An old soul.’

There came
A rap at the kitchen
Window.  It was spooky
—the Black and Orange Cat.
She wanted in,
And always let us know
By jumping up and clawing
At the screen. My Grandmother
Slid up the screen and spooky
Leaped with ease.  In her mouth
Was a field mouse.
She spit it out onto the freshly
Laid out plate lying on the table—
As if to say ‘here, look what i caught
For you!’  She seemed proud.

My Grandmother half
Screamed ‘For heaven’s sake.’
And my mother Jumped
And then screamed ‘cause
Her sleeve was lit ablaze
And She
Was franticly
Flailing Around.
i grabbed the 1973
Towel, in 1979, and nonchalantly
Handed it off
To my grandmother
As she passed by
On her way to extinguish
The flame.

i had known this scene was impending
and also knew
That no one would be hurt.
i laughed in my head
‘cause it was comical.

But as I glanced again at the calendar i wondered why i
Was there in this place
In this time, in this ‘Three Stooges’
Type scene with these people
That called me Carrie Anne.
And Why? On this date in 1979 while wondering about the eighteenth of September 1973
Why did I know?